The Head and The Heart

{image from Sub-Pop Records}

Though I didn't get up before the sun to see the Royal Wedding, I'm making up for the day's enjoyment with a patio-sit-work-sesh in 70some and sunny RVA. Feels good. Calls for feel good, Americana music {though I suppose if I was more topical, we'd be featuring some post-punk Brit outfit. But we had The Beatles on Monday, so cut me a little slack?}.

As Seattle keeps cranking out the kids with the good stuff, The Head and The Heart recently signed to Sub Pop Records to release their self -titled debut. An easy six-piece ensemble, piano and guitars dominate with flourishes of Charity Rose Thielen's violin and topped off with ebullient handclaps and footstomps. Think Avett Bros., a little Jason Isbell and the harder edge of Augustana. Lyrics from core songwriting partners Josiah Johnson and {VA-native} Jonathan Russel have you either coming or going – looking for life-lessons and experience in a new land, or missing the loved ones in cities left behind.

The Head and The Heart // Down In The Valley

The Week's Once-Over

Bluegrass Bonanza - Brown Bird, Devil Makes Three {Becki Hoehn}
Perfume Genius
Explosions in the Sky {Dustin Artz}
Under the Covers Monday - The Beatles v. She&Him

cheerio, pip-pip!
xx, chirgo

O'Death

{image from venuszine}

Nearly as tireless as their moniker, O'Death has toured much of it's existence since the formerly SUNY-enrolled gents banded in 2003. Gleefully filtering Americana through a warped and rusty sieve, the result is raw, minimalist bluegrass with a twist of goth and maybe a little punk. Gothic Americana, I can get behind that.

Newest release Outside is expected from Ernest Jenning Record Co. next month...as in three'ish days from now {april. already? jiminy}. You can plan ahead and preorder that freaknastiness here.

O'Death // Bugs

Hurricane Bells

Had that moment of being in the midst of normalcy when a song makes you stop in your tracks. You listen fiercely for a breath to catch some of the pieces, figure out what it is that made you freeze. Then you cast about wildly, who's going to tell you who this is?? Who knows this song?! You throw down the frilly blouse you were folding and stammer to your manager that you've got to know who the artist is, is there way to look? Hoping desperately that you don't come off weird slash socially awkward on the first shift of a part-time gig {a girl needs a little drop in the bucket to finance all these mp3s}.
With a cool confirmation she disappears for a moment to return with a magic post-it, scrawled on in graphite is the key to your craving. Nirvana. As is my 40% discount. I like this place.

Currently on tour with KT Tuntall, {VAST improvement from prior tour with Blue October. Gag me with a spoon}, Steve Schiltz of Longwave created solo album, Tonight is a Ghost, in the best sense - writing, playing, recording and mixing all the songs himself. Quickly followed by Down Comes the Rain, stream either or album here. Admittedly, I'm not as wild about the rest, that could be the mention of Blue October leaving a bad taste on my tongue

But like a locomotive racing down frostbitten rails, away away from here, "Freezing Rain" makes my heart hurt.

Hurricane Bells // Freezing Rain

Roky Erickson & Okkervil River

To spin the yarn of True Love Cast Out All Evil, the fibers begin to twist in Rusk State Hospital. Locked up on an insanity plea for possession of one joint, Roky Erickson spent years beside the worst kind of men in the criminal mental facility. After submitting to shock treatment for schizophrenia and to exorcize the LSD and heroine craving demons; he re-entered society a shadow of himself. Nearly unrecognizable as the once ferocious lead of The Thirteenth Floor Elevators - a pioneering act of '60's psychedelic rock and storied muse of Janis Joplin. Paranoid and plagued by night terrors, he spewed dark, tortuous music for a few years until tumbling into his own abyss.

Keep braiding the twine to 2001 in a Texan courtroom where Roky is the knot betwixt a family tug o war over religion and modern medicine. Tethered for years to the care of his mother who prescribed prayer, sensible love and second-hand knowledge from spouting daytime talkshow psychiatrist; younger brother Sumner Erickson looked to gain guardianship of his shadow sibling. Pull him out of poverty and hopelessness; out of his head and into the light. (check out 2005 doc "You're Gonna Miss Me")

With urging of certain central figures and firm hand over hand on the line, Roky has pulled himself to where he is today. Fellow Austinites and temping troubadors Okkervil River incessantly champion him; Will Sheff & Co.'s lush guitars, horns and ivories make Roky's crystallized honey tenor all the sweeter.

True Love's songs blaze with redemption. As true love should.

Roky Erickson & Okkervil River // Goodbye Sweet Dreams

Judson Claiborne

Leaky pipes and rusty wheel spokes. Tied sneaks thrown over a phone line. Cracked robin's egg on the sidewalk and a husk of a moth's cocoon on the porch. That's Time and Temperature by Christopher C Salveter aka Judson Claiborne, a name given by his father he says to be reclaiming.
Interesting process - to be taking back an invisible thing that was given to you in the first place. Most of us would probably like to do the same since losing a number of things, mostly between the ages of 13 and 17. But that's a haiku for the time capsule buried in the backyard and ES ain't dealing with that esoteric mess.

You might recognize the frontman's ambly lament from Low Skies, who toured with the likes of Neko Case, Okkervil River, Band of Horses, et al. After gaining inspiration biking Southeast Asia, getting zenned in a spiritual haven off the Hudson and finally landing in Chicago - Judson collaborated with a few who mutually share wearied adoration for steely mist and fog.
tu
la
ru
lah.

Judson Claiborne // Song for Dreaming

Phosphorescent Salutes Willie Nelson

...with 11 of his finest tracks on an album simply and aptly titled To Willie. If you like Willie, you’ll either love or hate this. My guess is you’ll love it because it’s about as close to the real thing as it gets. Then you say "Well why cover it then?" Then I say "It’s a fucking tribute album and it’s a damn good one." Then you say, "But I hate Willie Nelson." Then I punch you in the eyebrow and we never speak again. Until the next day when we have coffee and reminisce about the awesome fight we had the day before.

But don’t get me wrong. Phosphorescent (Matthew Houck) doesn’t make an exact replica here. He has a style and interpretation that makes Willie sound cosmic in areas. Like right here:

Permanently Lonely